


We can be emo (just for one day)

by Farfarella (ilovetherain)



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:19:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovetherain/pseuds/Farfarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin is having a bad day, he and Bradley talk seriously, and after this everything changes</p>
            </blockquote>





	We can be emo (just for one day)

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderful beta job by Tacitus 3  
> Warning/Spoilers: no spoilers but I warn you that I'm far more comfortable in writing smut than sap so the second part I guess might be better than the first.  
> Disclaimer: I don't know Bradley or Colin, neither do I know their families. This is just my imagination running free.

This must have been the worst week since they started shooting; or maybe since he started acting. Or of his whole fucking life, for what matters.

He has been forced to wake up before dawn for six days in a row because they wanted "real mist and that particular light." He is so tired he cannot do anything right, not even remember his lines or act them properly. And he's no longer sure the idea of doing his own stunts is still good since he aches in several places and sports a couple of bruises in an interesting set of colours. And not to mention the rain! He should be used to it, but Irish rain is different - it comes and goes and the sky is never this constant dull shade of grey. Here in France it seems that, when it starts raining, it will last forever; everything is damp, muddy and smells of rotten grass, and this puts everyone on edge.

And Dave has been a bit tough on him. And now Julian is telling him he can't go home for the weekend since they absolutely need to work on Saturday and maybe Sunday.

"Is not that I don't want you to go Colin, but, really, the forecast for the weekend says no rain, thank God, and you know how behind we are with the schedule. You understand, don't you, Colin?"

Well, what the fuck? Julian told him he could go. He'd promised, and Colin already booked the flight and alerted his family, relatives and friends. He hasn't seem them for two months because he's been working more than everybody else. When the others were on their weekend breaks he was here, because they desperately needed him here and he is a pro and of course said yes. So, what would a couple of fucking days change at this point? It's just not fair. Even less fair is that Julian's addressing him like a six year old in front of the others.

And that lump that suddenly tightens his throat is the last things he needs now, thank you very much.

So he does the only thing he can do: he nods, shrugs, murmurs an "ok" and leaves the room and a bunch of puzzled co-stars as quick as he can. Because the very, very last thing he needs right now is a public breakdown. And he hasn't even PMS to blame for this, for Christ's' sake!

***

When he gets on the top of the sentinel tower, - a climb of three hundred and something steps - he is short of breath but also calmer. He sits on the stone floor of the small balcony, arms wrapped around his legs, chin resting on his knees, thinking.

He's beginning to feel really embarrassed for his childish overreaction a moment before – not to mention Bradley and Katie and Angel were there – that he considers the best way to save face and make them all feel guilty. He could jump from the tower, for example. He imagines the articles in the newspapers: "Young, brilliant and promising actor Colin Morgan falls from a tower of a French castle while shooting TV series Merlin. Reasons for this accident are still unknown but overload of work, stress and responsibilities seem to be the most accredited causes. His co-stars and the staff are shocked and feel very, very guilty."

This would also provide good, free advertising for the show. But, this would also be a bit too radical. He might drink his brains out and spend the next few days being sick and miserable.

But, again, he is not sure Julian wouldn't make him work all the same; and working while you've a hangover is no fun.

So, in the end, he stubbornly turns his face to the gloomy ghost of a sun and hopes it will be enough to tan his cheeks and drive Julian insane.

"There you are!"

Bradley's blond head peeps through the small threshold. How he even knows about this place is a mystery; the bastard doesn't even look bothered by the three hundred and something steps.

"What do you want?"

Bradley shrugs casually. "Nothing, just to be sure you didn't jump or something stupid like that."

"Ha ha ha. You are no fun. I just needed fresh air but it seems I'm not even granted this moment of privacy." It comes out more bitter than he intended.

"Jesus Christ, Morgan, what's wrong with you? You look like shit. Are you sure you're all right?" Bradley frowns in a very Bradley-way, but there is a hint of honest concern in there.

The fucking lump is back again, and the more Colin tries to swallow it, the tighter it gets, so he thinks it's a good idea to cough, just to disguise his discomfort and the stinging behind his eyes.  
But the always helpful Bradley begins to slap his back vigorously in an attempt to help him stop choking, and, of course, he slaps right over one of the bruises. Colin cannot help but to wince.

"Ouch! Be careful, you idiot," he rasps between another fit of coughing. "You are smacking the very place you hit with your sword the other day. Three times."

"Ah, always said you don't have the _physique du role_ for sword fighting. Not even for stunting, actually." Bradley pats him on his shoulder, this time carefully.

"Your French sucks, you are hopeless," says Colin when he finally can breathe again. His back hurts, his throat hurts, even his chest hurts, and he only wants to wallow in his misery. Alone.  
He is going to ask Bradley kindly to go to hell and give him a moment of peace, but Bradley decides to shock him by sitting down beside him and hugging him.

Colin freezes.

"What are you doing?" he asks with the same caution one would use with psycho holding a gun.

"I'm hugging you."

Bradley is always good at stating the obvious and pretending you are the idiot of the two.

"This I can see. But... what's this for?"

Bradley shrugs and sticks his lower lip out in a funny pout. "You look miserable and I thought a hug might help. It'd have helped me for sure if somebody had hugged me when I went through my moment of misery, you know? A hug to cure all ills." He smirks and tightens his grip.

Colin is positively scared.

"Is not because you are going to throw me down, is it?"

Bradley looks at the twenty something yards that separate them from the ground.

"Naa, you'd most likely die and what if my new co-star happens to be a bore?"

"Are you sort of complimenting me?"

"No, I'm trying to help you stop sulking."

And it works, somehow.

"I'm not sulking."

"Ok, I'm trying to make you stop doing whatever you are doing over here. You are a pain in the ass, Colin."

Colin is ready to retort when suddenly realizes what Bradley said a moment before.

"You had a moment of misery? You?"

"Well, I'm human, you know?"

"Sometimes I wonder..."

"Fuck off, Morgan."

"Ok, ok. So, what happened? When?"

"Is not that you are going to gossip it all around if I tell you?"

"Hey! I'm not Angel. Or Kathy. Or YOU! I'm a tomb, you know?" Colin crosses his fingers mentally.

Bradley studies him, his eyes half-closed.

"Mh, ok. If I tell you mine you'll tell me yours."

"And then we are friends for life and we can write it in our secret diaries with little hearts and flowers! C'mon, James, it's not like we're schoolgirls!"

"Sometimes I wonder if you even have a heart, Morgan."

Bradley releases him from the hug and looks pensively at the sky. Colin hopes he hasn't killed the mood with his comment but just when he is sure Bradley's not going to say another word, his weird co-star begins to talk.

"Well, I was tired, I had a cold and I was kinda, uhm, you know, homesick. It was that period that I was annoying to everybody and especially to you. Now you know why. I was sort of down."

Colin cannot frankly recall a moment when Bradley is not annoying, especially to him, but keeps this thought to himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"And Julian was giving me all those lectures about professionalism and concentration and how Colin is good at this and how Colin is good at that. It was pretty humiliating, you know? Actually, everybody seemed to think that Colin was All That Which Is Good and Bradley All That Which Is Bad."

Colin cannot believe his own ears. He stares at Bradley, who is still pointedly not looking at him.

"Were you jealous... of me? I mean, seriously was it because of me that you were down? No way!"

"No! Well, maybe a bit. I hated you... a bit. And I was homesick also. And I had a cold."

"Oh c'mon mate, you know I'm the best and, beside, the victim role doesn't suit you." Colin grins, but when Bradley finally looks at him Colin realizes that he is pretty damn serious. "Ok, I'm sorry. I didn't realize things were so bad. If you'd just told me... We could have... done something. A beer together. Or play some spectacular prank on Angel. Or-"

Bradley waves his hand off. "But I didn't, ok? I'm doing it now because I want you to realize that we all feel down sometimes, it's normal and understandable, you are not that special. So, what's making you so miserable, instead?"

"Mh, where to start? Let me see. One, I'm suffering of sleep deprivation. Two, I'm so tired I cannot even remember my lines. Three, everybody is yelling at me, constantly. Four, I have a bruise of the size of a watermelon on my back and one on my arse and, of course, I have to do all the horse riding scenes. Five, I haven't seen my family in two months and the last time I visited them we didn't part in a very friendly way. Six, I've been dumped, after one year. With an e-mail. And this leads back to number five because my mother tried to tell me this was going to happen. But since I'm stubborn, I yelled at her and didn't want to believe what she was saying."

He has to pause to swallow that damn lump again, but Bradley's arm is back on his shoulder so he figures he's not making a huge fool of himself.

"You've been dumped? With an e-mail? Not even a phone call? This sucks, mate."

The concern in Bradley's voice is honest, and his thumb is soothingly caressing Colin's shoulder. Whoever this creature who took possession of Bradley James is, Colin thinks it's much more likable than the original.

"Yeah, not that I didn't expect it was going to happen - some part of my brain already knew it and that's what I think prevented me from breaking down. But, yeah, it was the e-mail thing that, you know... As you said, not even a fucking phone call."

A couple of stupid tears he has fought back all day finally roll down his cheeks; he brushes them away with his thumb. This will be the death of him, Colin knows, but he cannot stop right now. Especially when Bradley is "this" close, in a manner that is strangely more mental than physical. And Bradley isn't talking; neither pushing nor mocking. He is just listening.

So Colin thinks it's ok to go on.

"That e-mail was very hypocritical. Very. All those words about being different and pursuing different goals and not wanting me to suffer. What the fuck! And then it turn out my Mum was right."

It's not that he is really crying now, he's not one who usually cries. These are just tears of frustration, and why is not raining yet? It never rains when you need it.

"I'm not following you now, you know?" admits Bradley. He is distractedly playing with Colin's hair. "What was your mother right about?"

Colin gulps a mouthful of air.

"About that the true reason behind all that shit: the bastard was already seeing someone else and didn't have the guts to tell me straight to my face. Apparently everybody knew but me."

"What?" Bradley looks at him with wide eyes and open mouth. "What the fuck! What a coward. What a bitch! How could she-"

"He."

Bradley's hand stops abruptly and Colin holds his breath.

"He?"

"Yes. He. Tim."

A moment of silence that stretches a bit too long, Bradley's hand lays now motionless on Colin's left shoulder. Motionless but still there. Colin feels suddenly drained.

"Oh. Well, I didn't know you were gay... or bi, or whatever."

Bradley doesn't seem particularly upset, or disgusted. Just thoughtful.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Bradley."

"That's for sure. It's not like you're very talkative either. Anyway, he is a loser. That Tim, I mean. A true utter _looooser_. And a coward."

Colin smiles. "Je m'appelle Tim, je souis looooser." Bradley ends the sentence along with him and they both laugh loudly.

"Actually he thinks I'm the loser of the two because I'm working on this TV show while he is 'evolving' on stage. And is being thoroughly fucked by the producer. What an ass."

"What, is he a fellow actor or what?"

"Theatrical director. We are both from Armagh but now he lives in Dublin and works as an assistant in a couple of major productions. And now he thinks whatever doesn't involve theatre is shit. Including what I'm doing now. Especially what I'm doing now."

Bradley whistles and his fingers close on Colin's shoulder.

"Dude, that guy is true snobbish arse. The master of arses. The royal master of arses. You should be happy you got rid of him."

"Yeah, I know that."

All of a sudden Colin feels the tightness in his chest loosening.

"That's why I wanted to go home for the weekend. A friend told me he's going to stay in Armagh for a short period and I need to confront him, and maybe beat the shit out of him. And I also need to see my mother and apologize and be sure that things are ok between us."

"She is your Mom! Of course things are going to be alright. Jeez, Morgan, I didn't know you were such a mummy's boy."

"I'm not a mummy's boy, you moron!" He punches Bradley on his bicep, but not too hard. "We just get along very well and she has always been very supportive."

"Lucky you."

Colin is going to ask what this means but the first droplet of rain hits him on the nose, then another one, and then Bradley is standing and cursing at the rain, and the moment has gone.

He grasps the hand Bradley offers and stands up.

"C'mon mate, you better come back and do your best so maybe Julian can give you a couple of days off. No rest for the warlocks."

"Bradley, tell a single word around and you are a dead man. I'm serious." And he is.

Bradley opens his mouth, than shuts it and bends his head to one side. There's something indescribable in his eyes.

"You really think that little of me?" He is pretty damn serious too. He turns to the door and Colin wishes he hadn't said those last words, because Bradley didn't deserve them after all.

But then Bradley stops and turns to him again.

"That Tim is an idiot, if you see him tell him Prince Arthur thinks he is an idiot, ok?"

Colin smiles. "I will. By the way, it worked, you know? The hug to cure all ills. It worked, thank you."

Bradley's smile is smouldering and warm. Colin thinks that things will be a little better for now on.

***

Two weeks later things have actually improved. No more early rising, no more rain and Julian's temper is now back on his favourite subject: Bradley.

Colin still hasn't got his free weekend but, somehow, he sees things in a different perspective now and the wish to talk to Tim is not as urgent, though not so much the need to break his nose but this can wait as well, maybe until after the Merlin premiere.

He and Bradley have slipped into a sort of comfortable companionship. Pranks have reached perfection but they also enjoy a few moments of tranquillity, watching a movie or listening to music or chatting about everything and nothing. Bradley can be very pleasant and easygoing when he is relaxed, which doesn't happen very often.

In a sort of silent "Gentlemen's Agreement" they make no mention of their awkward moment on the tower. Colin is relieved but is also sure there is something else unsaid between them; he can tell by the way Bradley opens his mouth sometimes, as if ready to spill a great revelation, and then shuts it and becomes suddenly all noisy and restless. Colin also thinks that Bradley's compulsive and sometimes aggressive behaviour hides a little uneasiness, maybe insecurity. He cannot grasp exactly where this arrogance comes from, but more than once he's caught Bradley, between a tease and a joke, looking at him with a strange softness. But maybe this is just Bradley being protective over the ones he is fond of, so Colin doesn't bother to explain that he doesn't need anybody being protective over him because if this makes Bradley feel good, well, where is the problem?

They are rehearsing their lines – Colin with his back against a tree and his legs crossed and Bradley sprawled on the finally dried grass – while waiting for Dave's assistant to call them for the next scene when Tony joins them, all smiles and good humour.

"Guys, I bring you good news. I talked to Julian and convinced him we all need at least one day off so tomorrow we are all free like birds. Enjoy it kids, because this might be the only one in a very long time." And without waiting for a reply, Tony strides toward Richard, probably to deliver the news to him as well.

"Wow. One whole day off. We might die of boredom with all that free time for ourselves. Tell me, Colin Morgan, what a many wonderful things can a human being do with such an amount of free time?"

"What is this that I hear in your words, Bradley James? Irony? And why are you talking like the Dragon? C'mon, one day is better than no day at all."

"But two days are better than one. Weren't you the one who went almost insane because he couldn't go home to his Moooommy?"

"Sod off, James. Let's find a way to make good use of it, instead. What can we do?"

The "we" slips out naturally and Bradley must think the same because, instead of teasing, he simply shrugs and asks: "Dunno, any idea?"

"Uhm, actually yes. Do you think we can find a car for tomorrow?"

***

In three hours they get to the beautiful seaside village of Etretat, in the Haute-Normandie. The trip has been really pleasant; Bradley did all the driving and Colin enjoyed the landscape, the music and the chatting.

When they park in Etretat it's almost noon so first thing they do is eating sandwiches with that amazing French bread called a _baguette_, and a beer. It's cloudy and windy but there is no risk of rain. After their lunch, Bradley suggests a walk on the beach and Colin agrees, even if he'd rather stay at that comfy bistort facing the sea and enjoy the relaxing sound of waves and seagulls. But Colin also knows that Bradley is incapable of staying quiet for too long so he follows him to the beach and they walk for half an hour.

It's a strangely silent walk; they proceed side by side, each of them lost in their own thoughts.

When they find a lovely rocky inlet, Colin sits down and rests his back on a polished, dark rock that also provides a good protection from the increasing wind from the south. He watches Bradley jump from stone to stone until he gets close to the sea; Bradley dips one hand into the water but takes it out quickly. From the funny face he's making, the water must be very cold. Bradley urges him to walk over but Colin says no, so Bradley joins him on his wind-protected place and sits beside him.

For another long, awkward moment none of them says a word. It's weird, Colin thinks, as if they feel suddenly embarrassed around each other. He searches desperately for something to say but his mind is blank.

Than again, Bradley seems lost in his thoughts, eyes fixed on the horizon and that scary stillness that doesn't belong to him. He looks... sad?

"BJ, are you ok, mate?" Colin pats his friend's shoulder in something that should be comforting but not intrusive.

Bradley doesn't flinch, doesn't mock but doesn't smile either, and this scares Colin more than anything else.

Time expands into a deceptive infinity before Bradley turns his head and looks at Colin, one eye closed to protect it from the sun that is peeping now from the clouds.

"I need to tell you something, Colin, even if this could ruin everything, even if you'd never talk to me again, or most likely kill me, but I have to because, otherwise, I'll go insane."

Colin feels something very cold, and very painful, nestling at the base of his stomach. Is Bradley going to tell him he doesn't feel comfortable around gay people so, please, leave him alone? Or that he simply doesn't like him as a person? Or something worse, although Colin cannot figure out what could be worse than that.

Every possibility seems uglier than the former but Colin tries not to show his uneasiness because, after all, he is what he is and if Bradley James can't accept that he can go and fuck himself.

"Ok, go on, then."

Bradley is making an effort to look Colin right in his eyes, this Colin can see very well and wonders if it has anything to do with what they said about Tim being such a coward.

"I... like you. Very much. I think I'm falling in love with you and... As much as I tried to ignore it before, I can't do it anymore. Not after what you told me on the tower, I mean, that you like... guys. I mean, at least before this it was simply out of question, something so impossible I couldn't even feel too bad about it. But now... Mind you, is not that I'm expecting you to reciprocate or anything like that but I had to tell you because you have no idea how fucked up I am and... Shit, you unsettle me. Fuck! "

Bradley lets his head finally fall on his chest and Colin waits, and waits for the moment Bradley will look at him and giggle madly at Colin's astonished face.

But Bradley doesn't move and his hands are shaking. So Colin guesses this is not a joke. The next step is up to him, apparently. He doesn't know what to say, he only knows that his heart is beating dangerously fast and his ears are buzzing.

"I like you too, Bradley, a lot," is what he says in the end, and where this comes from Colin has no idea, he only knows that it is true and he just didn't understand he felt so until this moment. Or, better, he knew but put it in a distant and well secluded place of his mind, as busy as he was with Tim-the-jerk and his moment of self-commiseration. And, overall, he never, ever has had a hint that that Bradley-the-ladies'-man would be interested in males. And specifically in him.

Many pieces of a complicate puzzle seem to fall into place and he can see the main design appearing; it's a very nice design, actually.

"I'm very serious about this." Bradley is still keeping his eyes low but now he forces them to meet Colin's.

"I'm being serious too, Bradley." Colin is not sure what to say since he still has to elaborate. "Your hands are shaking."

Bradley looks at them as if they are two annoying pieces of unnecessary furniture and hides them under his armpits.

"It's the wind," he says tartly. And Colin smiles because here is the old Bradley he's familiar and knows how to deal with.

"So come here, I'll warm them up."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Come here." And Colin grabs Bradley by his wrist and drags him forcefully until he gives in and moves to his side, then he takes Bradley's left hand and slips it under his sweater and t-shirt, right over his belly, and holds it in place.

The hand is really cold against his skin and gives Colin goose bumps. He encircles Bradley with his free arm and gently pulls until Bradley's head leans on his shoulder.

"God," Bradley says.

"God," echoes Colin.

Bradley's body is still shaking a little, as if all the restrained energy that keeps him together is now trying to escape him. Colin kisses him on the forehead. "It's all right, you know?"

"Yes, this I can see. Only I wasn't prepared for it to be 'this' all right." Bradley laughs nervously and Colin keeps on kissing his forehead, brushing the air away with his lips.

"Me neither, for what it's worth. But I like it. I really do."

Finally Bradley relaxes and his hand now is warm against Colin's skin and his thumb is moving in small, soothing circles. Colin realizes he never shared something so intimate with Tim and the thought steals his breath away. They are different, Bradley and him, in many ways, but they are also complementary. Accomplices. Something he never, ever felt with Tim or anybody else.

He tightens the grip on Bradley and settles into a more comfortable position.

"What should we do now?" Bradley's breath is hot against Colin's neck and Colin feels the hotness spreading quickly to his belly.

"Dunno, improvisation?" He searches for Bradley's lips and their eyes meet for a moment, soft and luminous and smiling.

Bradley's lips have the salty taste of the sea, and Colin licks them playfully. Their first kiss stays soft and teasing for a while, just a brushing of lips and tongues, then it becomes a full open-mouth kiss, hungry and wet. Bradley is running his fingers under Colin's t-shirt in a feather-light, grazing touch and when he brushes an already sensitive nipple with his thumb, Colin swells in is jeans and fears he is going to embarrass himself too soon.

"Touch me." He spreads his legs shamelessly and doesn't mind begging because he is so hard and wants to come so badly with Bradley stroking him.

"Yes, yes. You too. You touch me too."

This is almost too much; Colin has to take a breath and regain a minimum of composure.

"Wait... I'm, you know..."

But Bradley doesn't listen and keeps on kissing his face and his neck and the cold wind chills bits of skin that were warm a moment before. Then Bradley's hand is snaking inside his jeans and Colin is so happy they are baggy and two sizes too big.

The hand rests for a moment, flat and strong against his cock and Colin cannot help but to jerk his hips, pushing hard against the palm.

"Colin, will you please..."

Bradley is all flushed and wet lips and his eyes are very dark, and Colin needs a moment to realize what he wants.

"Oh... sorry." He feels a little like a selfish bastard.

Colin fumbles with buttons and the fly and finally he can touch him. Hot and hard and throbbing, and already very, very wet. Like himself.

"Wanna look at you," he mumbles. He knows it is a crime to stop these amazingly erotic and sloppy kisses but he wants to see Bradley's face when he comes and wants Bradley looking at his.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you want."

They begin to move their hands together; Bradley cups Colin's cock, trapping it in the delicious friction between the roughness of his palm and the softness of Colin's skin. Colin's hand is firmly closed around Bradley, fisting him slowly, smoothly.

Bradley is beautiful and almost sleepy-drugged in his lust. There is just the wind and their broken moans. It isn't going to last very long.

Colin's hand is getting slicker with precome and he feels the wetness pooling on his own belly too, the tightness in his testicles is now almost unbearable, and Bradley is grazing the slit with his nail in a way that makes Colin hiss in a combination of pain and pleasure.

They move faster, hips thrusting and breath deep and broken. Colin imagines the sight they offer, him with his thighs wide open, rocking desperately against Bradley's hand inside his jeans and Bradley half sprawled over him, fucking his fist. Colin almost comes but then with a sudden and elegant move he straddles Bradley's lap, hands grasping the other boy's shoulder.

"Take us both," he orders and Bradley complies more than willingly, enclosing their cocks with both his hands, in a firm, strong grip.

They thrust together, not too fast but in hard, forceful shoves. They look at each other and Bradley's eyes are half closed, and he is murmuring something Colin cannot understand but is enough to make him moan because Bradley's lips are so full and beautiful when he talks.

He feels the fire building and burning, impossible to restrain. His cock throbs, as ready as Bradley is. He pushes into the tight grip, against Bradley's cock, and has the lucidity to lift their t-shirts to avoid a massive mess.

"Coming-" is the only thing he can say before the long, deep waves of his orgasm spread from his loins to his whole body. He moans, loud, and Bradley follows him, with his head thrown back and his body shaking against his.

Then, they stay still for a long moment, holding each other, rocking a bit back and forth while their breaths and hearts slow down.

"It's sticky," murmurs Bradley against Colin's neck.

"Wha?"

"It's sticky, my hand."

Colin pulls back and looks at the mess they made of their jeans but not of their t-shirts.

"Oh, oh..."

But Bradley is grinning and he can't help but to grin back. Bradley cleans his hand with a tissue and then cleans them both. The tension radiating from him is almost tangible so Colin holds his face between his hands, looks at him in his eyes and smiles his best Colin Morgan killing smiles.

"It's all right."

"I like your smile," says Bradley.

"I know, everybody loves my smile. But this one is my special one for you so don't waste it."

Bradley looks at him, puzzled.

"Morgan, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"I have no clue."

Bradley finally begins to laugh, and Colin pulls him close against his chest until he stops shaking and finally relaxes in his arms.

They might eventually talk about all of this, but not now.

Now they enjoy the afternoon sun, lazy kisses and touches, and unspoken fantasies of what's coming next.

When they return to the car, the wind has calmed down and they walk slowly on the beach, Bradley's arm on Colin's shoulders and Colin holding Bradley around the waist. They chat softly, totally unaware of the curious or disapproving stares of the few people on their way back.

Right now, nothing else matters.

***and this ends here***


End file.
